Amanda_A Contemporary Retelling of Emma

by Debra White Smith

  “I’ll call you when I get back from Brisbane, okay?” he said and walked toward his Mercedes.

  “Sure,” Amanda agreed, and he felt her watching him as his shoes grated against the concrete.

  Nate paused and verified that she was indeed staring at him instead of trying to get into her vehicle. “Are you going to get into your car?”

  “Yes. Of course. Right,” Amanda replied and fumbled with her keys. When they clanked to the pavement Nate moved back to her side.

  “Here, let me help,” he said. Nate retrieved the keys and pressed the remote. The lock chirped. He popped open the door and extended the keys.

  “Thanks,” Amanda said and accepted the keys. “I’m just so tired, I’m almost a zombie.”

  “And here I’ve held you up,” Nate admitted. “Sorry ’bout that.”

  “No, it’s perfectly fine,” Amanda said through a yawn. She settled into the driver’s seat, clicked on her seat belt, and gazed up at him.

  Nate searched her face for any hint of encouragement. All he detected were the memories of a twelve-year-old who followed him around like a groupie every time their families got together. Many years had lapsed since her Nate fan club era. During those years, he had tolerated Amanda’s constant chattering with patient amusement. Nevertheless, Nate couldn’t deny that the hero worship in her eyes had bolstered his ego. Now he would fall to his knees for even a scrap of what she’d exhibited then.

  “G’night, Amanda,” Nate said and gave in to a chaste version of the urge that would no longer be denied. He leaned into the car and brushed his lips against her forehead.

  Thirty-One

  Amanda ran through the streets of Highland chasing a red convertible Mercedes. Every time she got within reach of the car, it would disappear, then reappear, zooming in the opposite direction. Again Amanda lurched after the vehicle, running and falling and crying for Nate to stop. But to no avail. He just continued the insane driving.

  The ghostly feminine image sitting in the passenger seat threw Amanda into great heights of anguish, and Nate’s haunting words from last week echoed through the streets: “Sometimes the death of one relationship has to happen so another can be born.”

  Covering her ears, Amanda tried to break free of the heartrending words. No relief came. None. Only the sickening reality that she was losing Nate . . . that their relationship was dying . . . or rather, that woman was killing it.

  When the Mercedes swerved in her direction, Amanda strained to identify the mystery woman. Her image loomed familiar yet elusive as the vehicle zoomed past Amanda again. She pulled at her hair, writhed from side to side, and screamed, “No! No! No!”

  A disgruntled yowling jolted her senses. Amanda opened her eyes and stared through the morning twilight at the brass-trimmed fan on her bedroom’s ceiling. Her nightshirt was damp with perspiration. Her fingers were tangled in her hair. And Cuddles was howling like someone had died.

  Amanda sat up. The covers, knotted around her leg, had somehow trapped the cat. Cuddles’ writhing body bulged the sheets as she struggled against the linen prison.

  Amanda, grimacing against the taste in her mouth, unwrapped her legs and fumbled with the cover until Cuddles was free. The feline bolted from the bed, raced to the door, and stopped. Back arched, tale fluffed, she hissed at the bed and lowered her ears.

  With a dry chuckle, Amanda swung her socked feet to the rug. “You’re so brave,” she mocked as the haunting dream crashed through her mind anew. Amanda hugged herself.

  Nate had been gone a whole week. He hadn’t called or emailed or even sent a postcard. Nate’s neglect, unlike Franklyn’s lack of communication, plagued Amanda every second of every day. And his telling her that their friendship must die so he could continue the relationship with that woman was awakening Amanda to the depth of her dependence upon him. She was gradually realizing that she was in no way ready to allow their friendship to die.

  She hugged tighter and relived Nate’s hug, his lips on her forehead. Even though Amanda hadn’t expected the contact, she accepted the brotherly tokens of affection for what they were—Nate’s way of expressing his apologies for dumping her.

  Standing, Amanda stumbled into the white marble bathroom, flipped on the light, and gazed into the mirror. Her hair looked like one of Betty Cates’s used-up brooms. Her skin was pallid. And during the last week, the dark circles under her eyes had worsened. Fortunately, Haley was punctual, fresh, and cheerful all week because Amanda had been tardy, tired, and as grouchy as Cuddles.

  Amanda had barely been able to concentrate. Presently, there was a list of phone calls she needed to return Monday and a pile on her desk that looked like clutter but was actually high-priority business. Amanda hadn’t wanted to deal with the stack last week and didn’t want to think about it now.

  “This was a bad week,” she mumbled at her reflection and wondered if Nate’s “friend” was in Brisbane. She thought about emailing her sister the question but decided against it. Amanda just knew Bev would leak the question to Gordon, who would then “casually” mention it to Nate.

  Nevertheless, the fixation over who he was with was nearly driving her insane. If he was with some woman, wouldn’t Bev have let me know? Amanda worried, then wondered why her sister would even feel the need to let Amanda know. It’s not like we’re an item or anything.

  I’m obsessing over him, she thought and grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste. Amanda smeared a dollop of paste on her toothbrush, turned on the water, and blinked against her burning eyes. She inserted the toothbrush into her mouth and furiously scrubbed her teeth until her gums tingled with cinnamon. When she finished the chore, she rinsed her mouth with cool water.

  By that point, her eyes’ burning had increased beyond the blink-management stage. A tear splashed from her lashes and mingled with the water. Amanda dropped her toothbrush, turned off the water, covered her face, and heaved through a storm of emotion.

  She fumbled for a towel and buried her damp face in its fresh folds. Stop crying! she commanded. Stop it now!

  Amanda and Haley were meeting Franklyn for lunch today at the mall. The last thing Amanda needed was red-rimmed eyes. Franklyn had actually instigated the meeting. As things had turned out, Mason had given him the portrait of Haley since Nate wasn’t at church this week. He called Haley with the news and arranged for the three of them to get together.

  Given the fact that he and Haley had become fast friends, Amanda was certain he was making up excuses just to be near Haley. Of course, Amanda hadn’t even hinted of her suspicions to Haley. This time Amanda watched the swift-moving romance unfold and attributed Haley’s cheerful week to the budding relationship. Before long she was certain Haley wouldn’t even remember Roger’s name.

  Having gotten control of her emotions, Amanda rubbed her face with the towel and checked her watch, lying on the countertop.

  “Only seven?”

  Amanda yawned and looked at the bed. She hadn’t fallen asleep until two o’clock. Last night was indicative of every night this week; she hadn’t been this sleep-deprived since college. The brass bed beckoned anew. Amanda laid her watch and towel on the countertop, clicked off the light, and padded toward her bed.

  Haley stood outside the Italian restaurant and fumbled through her handbag in search of her coin purse. All the while, she scouted the mall traffic flow in search of some sign of Amanda or Franklyn. Haley was certain Franklyn said they would meet outside Mario’s at noon. She checked her watch again and acknowledged that, yes, indeed, it was twelve thirty.

  Her stomach specifically requested a large serving of the pasta that filled the air with tantalizing fragrance. And as much as Haley wanted to allow the waiter to go ahead and seat her, she needed to connect with Amanda first. However, neither she nor Franklyn had arrived, and this whole lunch was his idea.

  I must have gotten mixed up, Haley thought and strode toward the hallway where the restrooms were for some privacy to call Amanda. Amanda had offered to stop
by and pick up Haley, but Haley had opted for an early drive to the mall to browse for bargains. This time, Haley had come up empty-handed, but the shopping had proven quite relaxing.

  Haley entered the long hallway, the tap of her low-heeled pumps echoing against the walls and ceiling. A leather-clad young man was on his phone, pacing the hallway and clearly agitated, and Hayley decided a trip to the ladies’ room was in order. Hopefully when she came out, the earringed, tattooed young man would have vanished.

  She kept her gaze down, hugged the wall, and passed by him. He smelled of body odor and liquor and seemed to be having problems with cash flow, if the “Please, Mom, please, just one hundred more dollars,” was anything to go by.

  A wave of panic insisted Haley was not safe. Her skin crawled along her neck, and she knew he was watching her. She increased her pace and shot a glance toward him just in time to see him shove his phone in his pocket and take a giant step toward her.

  Before Haley had time to react, the youth snatched her purse like a bird plucking a worm from the ground.

  “Aaaahhhh!” Haley gasped and groped for her bag’s leather strap, tangled in her fingers. With a final jerk, the teenager yanked the strap from Haley’s grasp. Her pinky caught in the strip of leather and protested as the strap ate into her skin.

  The thief finally pulled the strap free and sprinted up the hallway.

  “Help! Help! Somebody help!” Haley’s scream bounced off the walls. “W-w-wait! You can’t do this!” She cried and lunged after him.

  The guy laughed as he dashed toward the mall traffic. “You can’t do this,” he mocked before running headlong into a tall, blond figure who appeared out of nowhere.

  “Haley?” Franklyn hollered while wrestling the purse thief.

  “My purse! He’s got my purse!” she shrieked and dashed toward Franklyn.

  The thief dropped Haley’s purse, and Franklyn kicked it down the hallway and tried to block the thug from escaping. But the guy lowered his head, shoved Franklyn into the wall, and scrambled away.

  Franklyn grunted. Arms sprawled, he tried to stop himself from falling, but to no avail. He landed on the concrete floor with a bump and “Umph!”

  Panting, Haley retrieved her handbag and collapsed at Franklyn’s side. “Oh my word!” she babbled. “You—you fought him! You got my purse!” She held up the leather bag. “You were so brave. I can’t believe it. Are you all right?”

  Franklyn frowned and stroked his midsection. “Yes, fine,” he admitted and rubbed the back of his head.

  The pounding of footsteps neared the hallway, and Haley looked up to see Amanda and a security guard.

  “Haley,” Amanda exclaimed, “are you hurt?”

  “N-no!” she shook her head and tried to stand. But she trembled so severely she couldn’t support her own weight.

  The security guard, dressed in black, helped Franklyn to his feet, and Franklyn and Amanda began fussing over Haley.

  “My partner is trying to catch that guy,” the security guard rushed. He glanced over his shoulder and backed away as Haley regained her footing. “I’m going to help him, but we’ll need you to make a statement shortly.”

  “Sure,” Haley agreed.

  “We’ll be in Mario’s,” Amanda said.

  Franklyn placed a supportive arm around Haley. Gripping her purse, Haley didn’t reject the kindness. He and she had developed a pleasant friendship since Amanda’s corporate party, and his protection and support were welcomed.

  “We arrived at the restaurant at about the same time,” Amanda explained and caressed Haley’s arm. “We thought we heard you yelling, so Franklyn ran to help you and I went for the security guards.”

  “Thanks,” Haley rasped and tried to hold back the swell of emotion that threatened to take her down. But her self-control snapped, and a broken cry accompanied a gush of tears.

  Franklyn stroked her hair, and Haley buried her face against his chest. “Don’t cry, Haley,” Franklyn fussed while Amanda patted her back. He smelled of expensive men’s fragrance that seemed a bit too much—especially when a young woman is used to a man of simple tastes.

  “Sweetie, it’s all over,” Amanda crooned, and never had Haley heard such a satisfied sound. “I’m so sorry I was late,” she continued. “I overslept.”

  “Overslept?” Franklyn asked. “It’s after twelve thirty.”

  Haley raised her head and fished through her purse for a packet of tissue. “She’s hardly slept all week.”

  “How did you know that?” Amanda questioned.

  “I could tell.” Her hand unsteady, Haley pulled a tissue from the packet and rubbed at her nose. “You start acting like Cuddles.”

  Franklyn released Haley, raised both hands, and inched away from Amanda. “Back, back,” he teased.

  “Oh, you.” Amanda waved him aside and said, “I’ll have you both know I’m much more cheerful today.”

  Haley discreetly examined Amanda’s eyes while dabbing at her own. Even though Amanda’s smile, her rosy cheeks, her perfectly fitting dress all bespoke her claim, her eyes told another story. Haley hadn’t pried, but she suspected Amanda’s problems involved Nate—or the lack of Nate. He hadn’t been around all week. And Amanda looked as miserable as Haley had felt when she was missing Roger.

  “Well, now that I’ve done my Superman act for the day, I’m starved,” Franklyn said and rubbed his hands together.

  “I was starved,” Haley admitted. “But after all that, my appetite isn’t quite what it was.” She managed a nervous laugh.

  “Mine’s not at its tops,” Amanda admitted and observed Franklyn. “Maybe you’ll have to eat for all three of us.”

  “If you insist!” Franklyn held out both his arms like an usher. “Ladies,” he invited, “let’s eat.”

  Amanda and Haley each looped their arms through his, and the three friends walked the length of the hallway, only to spot the winded security guard arriving from his chase.

  “We lost him,” he said.

  By the time Haley fully regained her composure, gave her report, and began her meal, she realized that Amanda was up to her usual matchmaking tricks. Except this time, her boss hadn’t bothered to inform Haley.

  Once the salad was served and devoured, Franklyn excused himself for a bathroom break. And he’d no sooner left their table than Amanda leaned forward and hissed, “I think he likes you!”

  “Me?” Haley replied. “I thought he liked you. Before he left for London, I thought you and he—”

  “No, no, no,” Amanda said with a mischievous smile. “He and I just aren’t.” She wrinkled her nose. “There’s no lasting chemistry. But with you!” Amanda widened her eyes. “Did you see how he protected you!”

  Haley toyed with the remainder of her breadstick. As she’d predicted, her appetite hadn’t been the best this meal. Neither had the breadsticks. She stared at the half-eaten, olive-oil-soaked specimen and contemplated everything Amanda was saying. While she and Franklyn both enjoyed each other, Haley was too distracted with Roger to notice whether or not he was thinking romance instead of friendship.

  “I hope he doesn’t think I’m leading him on,” Haley worried, and nearly blurted something about her commitment to Roger. “I mean, I hope he doesn’t think I’m chasing him or anything,” she corrected.

  “Are you kidding?” Amanda smiled, and the dark circles under her eyes were almost unnoticeable. “At this point, I don’t think he’d run very fast.” She leaned closer. “I promise, you should have seen him when he realized you were in trouble. He said, ‘That’s Haley!’” Amanda mimicked his British accent to the syllable and added, “Like you were the Queen of England or something.”

  If what Amanda was saying was true, then Haley had a significant problem. She lowered her gaze, picked up her cola, and sucked at the straw in an attempt to wash the garlic taste from her mouth. Haley gazed across the crowded restaurant, decorated in traditional Italian décor. The jazzy number flowing through the speakers reminded
Haley of some of the music at Amanda’s party.

  After Mason and Sonja had been so rude, Franklyn had taken Haley under his wing. He’d even given her a ride home since her car was in the shop. Haley hadn’t viewed the evening as anything more than an outgoing man being kind to a wounded spirit.

  But what if Amanda’s right? she worried. The last thing Haley needed was Franklyn chasing her when she and Roger were so close to becoming engaged. And this time, when he asked, Haley was going to say yes before he even finished the proposal. Let Amanda say what she would, Haley longed for farm life and for being a farm wife. She had never been so sure of anything.

  “Ssshhh!” Amanda hissed as if Haley had been talking nonstop. “Here he comes.”

  Haley straightened her shoulders and tried to act as casual as a young woman can who’s dreadfully suspicious of a new male suitor.

  “Are you going to be okay now?” Franklyn asked while taking the seat next to Haley.

  “Yes, I think so,” Haley said and flexed her pinky. “My finger is still attached. It hasn’t fallen off yet.”

  Franklyn touched her finger, and Haley nearly jerked it back.

  “I’m afraid my stomach is going to be sore tomorrow,” Franklyn said. “That kid really gave me a hard push.” He stroked his abdomen, then patted Haley’s back. “You were terribly brave.” His kind blue eyes twinkled with admiration, and never had a woman so disliked being admired.

  “You were the one who was brave,” Amanda responded and barely winked at Haley.

  “I’m afraid if I hadn’t been so late, maybe none of this would have happened.”

  Haley turned toward Franklyn and cocked her head. “Don’t blame yourself,” she admonished.

  “The truth is, it really wasn’t my fault.” Franklyn rubbed his temple. “I was on the phone with my uncle. You know, he and my aunt raised me after my mom died.”

  Both Haley and Amanda nodded.

  “Well, my aunt’s health is atrocious.”

  Haley caught a doubtful glance from Amanda. She recalled her mentioning that Angie believed the lady was a hypochondriac.